


Write Your Love To Me

by Sassoffrass



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pen Pals, Rating will go up in later chapters, mentions of bullying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassoffrass/pseuds/Sassoffrass
Summary: When Sidney Crosby was 7 years old his teacher announced that they were getting pen pals from Russia. Enter Zhenya, a boy that understood that hockey was everything. What started as a school assignment turns into a decade of letters, friendship, and romance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fully blame Bee (nomorelonelydays) for this. Her au's have taken over much of my life now that it's the off season. 
> 
> This is not edited, so please let me know if you catch something. Spelling mistakes in the letters are intentional. Sidney is only in grade 2 and Geno is still learning English, so misspelling is normal.
> 
> I expect that this will be a 4 part story, but who evens knows?? Working word count is at 3K right now, and they're only like 10.... I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet. 
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr! I'm Sassoffrass there!

Sidney stared at his teacher. Mrs. Hammas was an older lady, who always smiled at him, even when she caught him drawing hockey sticks in the corner of his workbook pages.  It was only a month into grade 2, and so far they had learned how to subtract large numbers, and began reading chapter books for a book report that they had to turn in before Thanksgiving. Sidney had chosen _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ , which while interesting, had lots of big words he didn’t know.

“I have a special announcement class! We are getting pen pals for the entire year!”

Whispers spread throughout then class, “I already have your first letters from them! We have been paired with a grade 3 class in Russia.  Can anyone tell me where Russia is?”

“It‘s in Europe and Asia!” piped a voice behind Sidney. Hanna was always answering questions, and while nice did not care about sports _at all_. She didn’t even like _hockey._ Sidney was half convinced she was an alien.

Mrs. Hammas smiled, “Correct!” She grabbed a large manila envelope from her desk, “Now, the class we have been paired with is a year above you, but English is not their first language. One of the main purposes of these pen pals will be for them to improve their writing.”

Sidney bit his lip, English was the main language in Nova Scotia but the older couple that lived next then the Crosby’s were from Quebec and spoke French.

Moving around the room Mrs. Hammas started handing envelopes to each student, “Don’t be surprised if the first letter is short, your pen pal may be nervous. When you write back, I want a full two pages! Tell them about yourself; how old you are, what your favorite subject is, what you like to do outside of school.”

The envelope that was handed to Sidney was off white, and slightly wrinkled. The flap wasn’t licked, but folded in. Pulling out then notebook paper, Sidney realized that he only had one sheet folded in half. The handwriting was shaky, and there were several smudges where the writer had obviously erased his words and started again.

> **_Dear Penpal,_ **
> 
> **_My name is Zhenya. I am 8 years old. I live in Magnitogorsk. I have one brother. Do you have a brother? I play hockey. Do you like hockey?_ **
> 
> **_-Zhenya_ **

The letter was short and very simple, but it had two sentences that, in a little over a decade, would accumulate into something great. _I play hockey. Do you like hockey?_

Sidney grinned down at the letter. His pen pal, Zhenya he corrected himself, like hockey. He played hockey. Maybe he played forward? Or defense? Dozens of questions buzzed in his head. He tried to picture what this Zhenya looked like, maybe he was tall, he was a whole year older than Sidney so he was probably taller. This boy liked hockey, and more importantly, had never played with Sidney before.

Never been his friend, only to say mean things once Sidney scored again and again. Never pretended to be nice, and then shove him when the coaches weren’t looking. Never skated past him and swiped at his calves.  His parents always told him to ignore the other boys, that they were just jealous, but he sometimes he hated going to practice. He loved the ice, the feeling of flying, the energy he felt when the puck left his stick…but he wished he had someone on his team that liked him beyond the fact that he helped win games.

Sidney read the letter again. _I play hockey. Do you like hockey?_ This was a chance. He had to write back, no matter what, Mrs. Hammas said they had to.

Steeling his nerves, Sidney pulled his notebook out of his desk, the one with the Habs logo on it. Flipping to a clean page he picked up his pencil and began.

> _Dear Zhenya,_
> 
> _My name is Sidney. I am seven years old, and I live in Cole Harbor. That is in Canada. My teacher, Mrs. Hammas says that we are going to be writing to each other all year. I don’t have a brother or a sister. I wish I did, then I would have someone to play with all the time._
> 
> _I play hockey too! I love it. My favorite team is the Montreal Canadiens. I excited for the new season to start. I play on my local team. I play center. What position do you play? Are you on a team? My dad use to be a goalie, so sometimes I get to play with him._
> 
> _Does your brother play? Do you have a favorite team? I love skating. It makes me feel like I am flying on the ice. Does it feel like that for you?_
> 
> _Hope you have a good day,_
> 
> _Sidney_

Sidney scanned through the letter. It wasn’t two full pages, but it almost was and he was pretty sure he spelled everything right, so Mrs. Hammas would be happy.  Carefully, Sidney folded it in half, and stood up to bring it to the front of the room, where some of his classmates had already put their finished letters. He was almost out of his chair when he paused and opened the letter again. Quickly he doodled a hockey stick and puck next to his name. Maybe Zhenya could be a friend.

_/\\_

August finished and it was half way through September before the next letter came. By then the preseason had truly began and Sidney was spending hours every day on the ice, on his driveway, and in his basement practicing. He spent hours skating forward and backward, practicing sharp turns, his puck handling, and his shots. When he wasn’t practicing he was working on homework, which involved entirely too much math.

The boys on his team this year had mostly stayed the same, only a few new players. It wasn’t any different though. They would smile and joke, and complain about school together, but as soon as they hit the ice the extra roughness started up again. The chirps got a little meaner, and the looks he got when Coach praised his work were a little more hostile. Another season of hoping that his teammates would like him enough not to mess with this gear.

Sidney loved hockey, but he didn’t always love the people.

When Mrs. Hammas announced that they had gotten responses Sidney had half forgotten about the letter he had written. He wondered if his pen pal had minded all the questions that Sidney had asked. Maybe he would be as excited about hockey as Sidney was. It was doubtful.

Mrs. Hammas passed the letters around to each student. This time the envelope had a messily written Sidney on it and felt a little thicker. It still wasn’t sealed shut, just the flap tucked in. Carefully, Sidney pulled out the letter and was pleased to see a full two pages written in the same messy hand writing as before.

> **_Dear Sidney,_ **
> 
> **_I am happy that you like hockey. I love to play. My brother name is Denis. We play hockey together. It is my town team.  I play in mornings before school and after. I play center to. Denis is 9 and we play on same team._ **
> 
> **_My favorite team is Metallurg Magnitogorsk. Is Russian team. Russian best._ **
> 
> **_Being on ice best. Skating is all. I want to skate forever. Mama says that I should work hard in school. Hockey is fun. School is not fun. English is hard._ **

There were several drawings then. Two were of hockey sticks, and another of a goal post. The last drawing was of a stick figure holding a puck and a stick.

> **_I wish I could play hockey every day. Do you? Denis say hockey is not all. I think Denis is wrong.  Hockey is everything. It makes everything better._ **
> 
> **_-Zhenya_ **

Sidney stared at the letter. _Hockey is everything._  His fingers twitched. It was still early morning, only about 9am, but he had already practiced for two hours before he had to get on the bus for school.  Zheyna understood. It wasn’t that Sidney didn’t like other things. He liked playing baseball, he liked watching shows on PBS, and he liked swimming.  But hockey. _Hockey is everything._  

Pulling out his Habs notebook Sidney was already drafting his response in his head. This letter wasn’t going to be nearly as short as his first. He needed to know everything about Metallurg, he had never heard of it before, but more importantly, he needed to know everything that Zhenya liked about hockey.

> _Dear Zhenya,_
> 
> _Hockey is everything. I practiced my slap shot this morning…_

_/\\_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is finally here! Internet issues pushed this chapter back a couple of days.
> 
> Thank you again to Bee (nomorelonelydays) for the inspiration!
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr! I'm Sassoffrass there!

The months faded from September to November and on. Zhenya didn’t like the season change. With every month a forbidding deadline approached. Not only was the hockey season ending in just two months, but the end of the school year was coming to a close as well. Zhenya had never before dreaded the end of a school year, usually rejoicing with Denis that there was no more homework for three months. This year was different though.

When his teacher declared that they would be practicing their English by writing to Canadians Zhenya had wondered if this was the hell the priest talked about in church. English was hard. The alphabet was wrong, the words were wrong, and for the life of him he could never remember to put a “the” in the right spot. Russian didn’t have a “the”.

Obviously Russian was best.

The first letter he wrote had not ended up too bad. He had rewritten three times, and consulted his Russian-English dictionary. Zhenya hadn’t expected a response beyond pleasantries, most likely needing to result to the dictionary in order to understand it.

The letter he had gotten in returned, definitely needed an dictionary to translate, but the words sparked something in Zhenya. Sidney from Cole Harbor liked hockey. Not only did he like hockey; he love it, and he was a center like Zhenya.  ‘ _I am flying on the ice,’_ Sidney had said, describing skating. It was everything that Zhenya could not put into words. Put into English.

It takes six weeks for a letter to be sent to Canada and for the response to be received in Russia.

The letter he received today is the seventh letter from Sidney.  Zhenya doesn’t want to open it. His teacher explained that these are the last letters that they will be receiveing. They will send one more ‘good-bye’ letter that will arrive in Canada just two weeks before the end of their school year. There won’t be time for another letter before the summer starts.

Zhenya hadn’t expected Sidney. Nobody, he thinks, expects Sidney. Getting Sidney’s letters is almost better than going to hockey practice, and Zhenya honestly doesn’t know how to feel about that. Sidney’s letter’s had started fairly short, a fact that Zhenya’s English-Russian dictionary is thankful for, but with each new letter the envelope became thicker and thicker.

Sometimes Sidney writes about what he is learning is school.

> _I hate math sometimes Zhenya. I know that its useful, I actually used subtraction the other day to figure out if I had enough change for the vending machine at the rink, but it still sucks._

Sometimes he talks about his classmates.

_Tommy Keel said that the Josie in Mrs. Armers class kissed him behind the slide during recess. I don’t know if I believe him. Tommy also said that the Canucks were going to win the Cup this year so I don’t think he actually knows what he’s talking about._

Sometimes he talks about hockey; those are the best parts of the letters.  Zhenya didn’t know that someone could actually discern so much about hockey, that someone could _understand_ it in such beautiful way.

> _'I’ve been working on my backhand the last couple of weeks. Its new. Its amazing. The puck just elevates so nicely. I think I’ll need to practice to get my arm strength up. I’ve been watching tape and I think if I can get my lift under better control then I’ll be able to backhand from farther away from the crease.'_
> 
> _'The ice isn’t right. There is something about how my skates drag on it. The Zamboni man is very nice, he listened when I told him that if the ice could be another few millimeters thick our skates would cut through it better. I went to practice yesterday and I could tell the difference. '_
> 
> _'It sounds like your stick is too curved. Its harder to shoot either side if the curve is big. Maybe try a flatter stick? The one I use is completely flat. The flat part lets me shoot both ways, and its easier on the back hand that I’ve been working on._

Zhenya had opened letters with three or four sheets covered in plays. English was sometimes hard to communicate with, he was still learning, but going back and forth with plays made a lot of communication easier. Zhenya had sent the plays back covered in three different colors of edits along with two sheets of his own plays for Sidney to look at.

Sometimes though, Sidney’s letters worried Zhenya. Small comments that made him want to hug Sidney and tell him that Zhenya would fight anyone that looked at him funny.

> _'Marcus and I were partnered for faceoffs this week. Coach said that he needs better control of his stick. He kept hitting my wrists instead of getting the puck. '_
> 
> _'I had to get new laces today. Both of mine snapped when I went to lace up. Its weird though, I just got new laces last week.'_
> 
> _'I got highsticked twice in the game yesterday. My nose keeps bleeding.'_
> 
> _'Alex Devei hid my extra sticks while I was changing the other day. He said it was just a prank and Marcus backed him up. I had to re-tape all of them though. Alex hid them in the janitor’s closet and stuck the end in the mop bucket so they wouldn’t fall over. Coach made them do two extra laps around the rink, but said that they were just trying to have fun.'_

Sometimes Zhenya wants to punch Sidney’s teammates. Zhenya had talked with Mama about some of the  things Sidney had wrote about.

“Zhenya, those boys were not trying to be nice, or have fun. They were trying to hurt your friend. Tell Sidney to talk with his parents about this,” Mama told him while stirring the soup she was cooking, “Sidney could get hurt if those boys keep messing with him.”

Zhenya shook his head, thinking about Sidney getting hurt was just making him mad. He was still holding Sidney’s unopened envelope, carefully sealed with Zhenya’s name printed neatly on the back.

Finally, Zhenya took a deep breath and opened the letter.

> _Dear Zhenya,_
> 
> _Mrs. Hamas told us today that this is the last letter we are going to be sending you. It's weird to think that the school year is almost over. Hockey is done for the season, but I'm still practicing! I had to get new skates last week, since my toes were getting to cramped._
> 
> _I'm signed up for two different hockey camps this summer, but my dad said if I get good grades, he'll set up a net in the basement for me to practice my shots with. I'm sad though. It's not as good as ice, and I like skating better._
> 
> _I got a 97% on that math test l told you about. Jackson said that everyone would like me better if I wasn't such a 'know it all' but how am I suppose to do less? That doesn't make any sense._
> 
> _Is your season still going? Did you score any more points? My parents are going to see if I can play in the 10 and under league instead of the 8 and younger league in the fall. Maybe they'll like me better there._
> 
> _Did you convince your parents to let you and Denis get that puppy? I wish I had a dog. That'd be so cool._
> 
> _I drew some new plays the other day. It's in the envelope too. Let me know what you think, I'm having trouble with what the defense should be doing. I'm thinking they need to cut down the middle, but I don't want to leave the sides open._

Zhenya frowned at the letter. How was he suppose to tell Sidney what he thought if this was the last letter? He looked at the plays, drawn in a midrid of colors to represent the players and who moved first. Sidney was right, the sides were too open. 

There was still half page written in Sidney's letter though, so Zhenya turned his attention back to the words.

> _Mrs. Hamas said that since this is the last letter, we won't get a response from you. That's it'll be summer before your letter would get back to us.  I wish there was a faster way for letters to come._
> 
> _I really like writing to you. I think you're my best friend. The other kids don't really like me that much, and I never know what to say. They think I'm weird._
> 
> _If you want, you could still write me? I've included my address, so if you do the letter would go there. I understand if you don't want to though. Anyways, I'm glad I got to know you._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Sidney_

Zhenya ran his figures over the address the Sidney had included at the bottom of the page. 

He could keep writing to Sidney! 

He bit his lip, Mama wouldn't be happy about the cost of the stamps, but he could use his pocket money for it. He had wanted save for new hockey gloves, but he could buy stamps instead.

_'I think you're my best friend'_

For all that Zhenya had a lot of friends, he didn’t think any of them were his _best_ friend. The other kids in his class liked him, his teammates liked him too. Even his grouchy neighbor Mr. Solokov liked him.

Zhenya was pretty sure that Sidney was his best friend too. 

Zhenya pulled out his notebook, he needed to draw his own version of Sidney's play and write a letter. 


End file.
